There's never a wish better than this
by TwilightPony21
Summary: A collection of Harm/Mac ficlets with just a little more romance for them.
1. Possession

**Hi, everyone! I just thought I would share a few of my JAG ficlets here. They're all separate ficlets and not in any chronological order – mostly they're just for fun when the muse strikes. I hope you like them, and thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _"I'd like you to meet my...commander. Commander Harmon Rabb."_

Mac had been standing next to him in the middle of the airport, and Renee's choice of words hadn't gone unnoticed. Even if it was unintentional, introducing Harm to her video crew had brought on an air of possessiveness that hadn't been there before.

Renee had taken his arm and smiled, and he had smiled back, effectively ignoring the Marine on his other side.

The words bothered Mac more than she wanted to admit. Even after they had returned from the investigation, she could still hear Renee's voice echoing in her mind.

 _My commander._

* * *

When Mac opened her eyes, she found herself seated in one of the pews of a beautiful, candlelit church with a cathedral ceiling. Red and white roses adorned the aisle, and she could hear excited murmurs among the other guests.

She was seated next to Admiral Chegwidden and several other JAG staff, all finely dressed in their military best and focused on the altar.

 _It's a wedding_ , she realized.

When she turned to the altar, she saw Bud leading the line of groomsmen, a smile on his face and the rings clutched tightly in his hand. Harriet stood at the head of the bridesmaids, her eyes alight with happiness and another huge bouquet of roses in her arms.

And then Mac's heart stopped when she saw the groom. She didn't think she had ever seen him look so handsome. His dress whites and gold wings were only accentuated by the wondrous look in his eyes as he watched his bride come down the aisle.

 _His bride_.

Mac's heart had already stopped but now she swore she could hear it shatter as she watched Renee step up to the altar, possessively attaching herself to Harm's side. Her wedding gown was beautiful with a long train and a flowery veil, a vision of white that Harm could not tear his eyes from. It made Mac feel rather inadequate in comparison, even in her military dress.

"Dearly beloved..."

The traditional opening of the ceremony was followed far too quickly by the ending.

"Renee, do you take Harmon to be your commander, forever and for always?"

 _Her commander?_ That wasn't right, was it?

"Objection!" Mac rose to her feet, and her strangled cry echoed throughout the hall.

"Colonel, we're not in court!" the admiral hissed.

As every guest in the church turned to look at her, Mac briefly wondered if the floor could open up and swallow her whole.

"I'm—I'm sorry, sir," she whispered brokenly.

Under the admiral's glare, Mac quietly sank back into her seat. The church had fallen into a stunned silence. Bud and Harriet looked taken aback by her outburst. And she was certain that the contempt in Renee's eyes alone could force the earth to part beneath her.

 _Her commander. Forever and for always_.

It was at that moment that Mac dared to steal a longing glance at the groom.

"Harm?" Mac's voice was soft, her eyes pleading with his. "Harm...please say something."

"Can I get you anything for lunch?"

* * *

"What?" Mac was abruptly jolted out of her daydream by his voice coming from her office door.

"Lunch?" Harm repeated. "You want anything?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Harm paused in the doorway, noticing Mac's frown and faraway look.

"I'll pick you up a salad," he said carefully. "With lots of leafy vegetables."

"Okay."

Harm raised an eyebrow. "And maybe I'll throw in some meatless meatloaf while I'm at it."

"Sure."

Concerned, Harm stepped into the office and approached her desk. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Marine?"

Mac looked up in surprise. "Your Marine?" she repeated softly.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Carnivorous creature. This was her office last time I checked."

His tone was innocent and teasing, and Mac could feel her lips involuntarily curve into a smile.

"Harm, I'm fine," she insisted.

He eyed her suspiciously but didn't argue. "Okay," he finally surrendered, raising his hands and backing out of her office.

 _His Marine_ , she thought. It made her heart beat just a little faster.

She could live with that.

"Harm?" she called suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Medium rare quarter pounder with cheese. And no meatloaf!"

He turned around with a grin and winked at her. "That's my Marine."


	2. Raindrops

**A little tag to the episode where Harm falls out of the admiral's chair, hits his head, and has visions of Mac. Bud suggests that he should get an MRI.**

* * *

"Wow, it's really coming down out there!" Mac exclaimed.

She could already feel the chill in her bones. Even in the short sprint from her car to Harm's apartment, the wind-driven rain had managed to soak her pretty thoroughly. Her clothes were more than damp, and her hair fell in soggy, limp tendrils around her eyes.

Harm wasn't any drier. He shook the rain out of his jacket and ran a hand through his dripping wet hair. Quickly, he unlocked the door to his apartment and let them both inside.

"I didn't know it was supposed to rain," Mac said, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

Harm looked surprised. He could have sworn that sweet, sultry voice had known the weather forecast earlier this morning.

 _It's gonna rain this afternoon. It's perfect weather for making love._

"Hey, you okay?"

She touched his arm in concern, and visions of a smooth white satin dress flashed before his eyes.

Harm blinked in confusion. "Yeah. Mac, you didn't have to drive me home."

"Harm, you heard the doctor. Just because there's nothing abnormal on the MRI, you should still rest this afternoon." She grinned. "And stay away from chairs."

Harm didn't seem to hear her. He was still focused on her hand resting on his arm, and when he lifted his eyes to meet hers, he stared at her with a puzzled, faraway look, much like he'd been doing all day.

"Harm?"

Slowly, his hand came up to her cheek, tracing the rivulets of water as they ran down her face.

She smiled. "Raindrops."

"Raindrops." His voice was barely an audible whisper.

 _I've been doing some thinking lately._

 _About Mac coming out of your shower clothed only in raindrops?_

The color of his eyes darkened, and the sudden intensity in his gaze made her heart beat just a little faster. It almost felt like the raindrops were evaporating under the heat of his touch.

Mac just barely resisted leaning into him, and she quickly pulled away to regain her composure. "Harm, I have to go. I'm meeting Mic for a late lunch. I told him I would come after your appointment—"

"Mac, you're soaked."

"I won't melt."

She sounded more confident than she was. She couldn't admit that just the way he had been looking at her all day was melting something inside of her.

With a nervous laugh, Mac turned to leave. "Harm, get some rest. I'll stop by later and check on you?"

"Yeah, I'll be here."

"Okay."

Outside, the sky grew darker and a fresh torrent of water burst from the clouds. And with a heaviness weighing more on his heart than his injured head, Harm let her walk out the door into the rain.


	3. Flight

"Wow, sir, she's a beauty."

Bud walked around the bright yellow Stearman plane with a look of admiration.

"My grandfather used to fly one just like her," Harm said with pride. He nodded towards the passenger seat. "You want to fly?"

"Me? Fly?" Bud looked up at the sky in wonder. "Up there?"

"That's usually where planes fly, Bud."

Bud's face lit up with excitement. "Absolutely, sir!"

It didn't take long for Harm to get them airborne. Bud could barely contain himself as he felt the plane lift off the runway, and he let out a whoop as they picked up speed and the wind whipped against his face.

"You have a strong stomach, Bud?"

Harm didn't wait for an answer as he spun the plane through a pattern of upside-down loops in the open air.

"What a thrill, sir!" Bud exclaimed. Harm had always told him that flying was an incredible adrenaline rush.

The plane swooped down in a graceful dive and then Harm pulled her back and climbed steadily again.

"Come on, Sarah."

"Uh...Sarah, sir?" Bud wasn't sure he heard the right name over the roar of the engine.

"The plane, Bud."

"You named her Sarah?"

"After my grandmother."

"Not after the Major?"

Harm laughed. "No, not after the Major, Bud."

"You ever think about taking her flying, sir?"

"Major MacKenzie?" Harm sounded as if he had never even considered the idea. "I guess if she wants to."

Bud chuckled. "I bet she wasn't the jarhead partner you were expecting, was she, sir?"

Bud looked out among the passing trees below as he waited for Harm to answer.

"Uh...sir?"

Bud could swear the trees were getting closer.

"Commander?"

Suddenly, the plane was plummeting in a downwards spiral similar to what was happening inside Bud's stomach.

"Harm!"

At the very last second, Harm lifted the front end of the plane skywards, barely skimming the tops of the trees. Bud had closed his eyes tightly, and he wasn't so sure he didn't feel a few leaves spattering on his face.

He let out a sigh of relief as the plane quickly climbed in altitude. Daring to open one eye to peek out at the earth below, Bud decided that he wouldn't ask his pilot about the pretty Marine major until they were safely on the ground again.


	4. Diamond

"Lieutenant Harriet Sims reporting for duty, ma'am."

Colonel Sarah MacKenzie looked up from her desk to see her visitor standing at the door. "Harriet!"

She quickly rose from her desk and enveloped her friend in a warm hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you out for a few days," Harriet explained. "The general thought you might need someone on 'special duty' to get the San Diego office up and running."

"Well, he couldn't have sent anyone better for the job," Mac said approvingly. "How are you? How's Bud? How are the kids?"

"Oh, Bud's good, and so are the kids. How are you, ma'am?"

"I'm...good."

Her slight hesitation didn't go unnoticed.

"Are you?"

Mac turned away, a little embarrassed by her emotional state. "Harriet, I'm fine."

"Are you settled into your apartment out here?"

Mac nodded. "Yeah, it's a nice place."

"Did all of your boxes arrive from Georgetown? Do you need any more furniture? Is the weather warm enough for you? Are you eating okay?"

"What is this?" Mac laughed. "An interrogation?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Harriet said a little sheepishly. "It's just...well, I got a phone call from London before I came."

Mac's eyes narrowed. "He put you up to this?"

"His exact words were 'make sure she's settled in okay and make sure she's not eating too much of that burger crap.'"

Mac rolled her eyes in irritation, but the heavy sigh as she sank back into her desk chair told a different story.

"You miss him so much it hurts?" Harriet asked softly.

"Is it that obvious?" Mac looked away and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Harriet let out a soft gasp. "Is that it?" She took a hold of Mac's left hand. "Ohhh, it's beautiful."

Mac's heart warmed instantly as she thought about her fiancé, and she twisted the ring around her finger, making the diamond shimmer in the sunlight.

"It's hard, Harriet," she admitted. "I'm here, and Harm's in London. It's five thousand four hundred..."

"And eighty-nine miles away," Harriet finished with a sympathetic smile. "Well, like I said before, ma'am, it helps if you're sure."

"I am." There was no hesitation in Mac's voice now. "I'm sure. He's always been the one."


	5. Doppelganger

**A future scene after the JAG episode where Sean Murray guest starred as Terry Guitry.**

* * *

"Lieutenant Terry Guitry," Special Agent Tony DiNozzo read in a professional tone. "U.S. Navy officer arrested for shooting a Japanese military officer last night." Tony studied the photo on screen. "This guy look familiar to you, Kate?"

Kate nodded with a sly smile. "I do see the resemblance."

"Looks like our probie has a doppelganger." Tony grinned.

McGee frowned at the screen. "Tony, I don't look anything like that guy."

"Oh, I think he looks exactly like you, McGoo. The question is why would someone who looks like you shoot a Japanese military officer."

"Guitry has a previous record in Japan," Kate read. "A few years back, he was accused of raping a Japanese girl and later charged with perjury during the trial. He was acquitted, allowed to stay in the Navy, and later promoted for exemplary service." She paused in surprise. "Must have had a damn good lawyer."

"The best, ma'am."

Kate looked up from her file at the sound of a new voice in the bullpen.

"Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts," the newcomer introduced himself. "Special Agents Todd and DiNozzo," he acknowledged the two agents he recognized from his last encounter with NCIS.

"Special Agent McGee." He hadn't met the younger agent before, but McGee stepped forward and extended his hand politely to the commander.

"You look familiar," Bud remarked.

"Aha! Even JAG thinks there's a McTwin out there," Tony chirped gleefully.

"He thinks Agent McGee looks like Lieutenant Guitry," Kate explained.

Bud nodded. "I do see the resemblance."

Tony shot McGee a triumphant look.

"But fortunately, Agent McGee, you're not in need of defense counsel like Lieutenant Guitry. JAG is here because we played a pivotal role in exonerating the lieutenant from previous rape and perjury charges and he claims that he's innocent once again. As a senior attorney at JAG, I'd like to request that all aspects of this investigation—"

Bud trailed off as he noticed the somewhat pained expressions on all three NCIS agents' faces. Hesitantly, they pointed behind him.

"You interfering with my investigation, Commander?"

Bud swallowed a gulp at the low, smooth voice behind him.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he began, trying not to shrink under Gibbs' glare. "Look, I realize that you haven't always gotten along with JAG in the past—"

"Yeah, you could say that. How are Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie these days?"

"Uh, it's actually Captain Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie Rabb now. ... Sir," Bud added politely.

"Don't call me sir."

"Sorry, sir."

"Rabb got hitched to MacKenzie?" Tony asked with a puzzled expression. "How's that working out?"

"Oh, very well," Bud replied. "They make a trans-Atlantic marriage look easy."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "It's a long distance thing?"

"Yes, sir. The captain is in London but he comes stateside often to see the colonel in San Diego." Bud shrugged. "Somehow they make it work."

"Anyone gonna make something work for our lieutenant?" Gibbs grumbled.

"You mean our McGee doppelganger?" Tony teased.

McGee rolled his eyes.

"Well, we think the alleged murder charge may have something to do with his previous charges, sir—Special Agent Gibbs," Bud quickly corrected. "The Japanese officer may have been related to the girl that Lieutenant Guitry fell in love with in Japan years ago."

"May have been?"

"It's still under JAG investigation."

"You mean NCIS investigation."

"Of course, sir."


	6. Parents

**Harm/Mac – parents. A 5-sentence ficlet prompt from a fellow Tumblr user. Thank you for the prompt!**

* * *

"Harmon Rabb the third," the Navy recruiter read from the file, emphasizing the suffix on the name and peering intently at the tall, dark-haired teenager standing at attention in front of him, "and why do you want to enlist in the United States Navy, son?"

"Tradition, sir," he answered promptly. "I come from a long line of naval aviators and would like the opportunity to serve my country the same way my father did and his father and grandfather before that."

"You do realize that the life of a Navy pilot involves more than pulling stupid stunts in the air and flaunting your superiority over the Marine Corps?"

"I'm not so sure about that, sir," the boy replied confidently, "because my father pulled enough stunts to last the Navy a lifetime and my mother was the Marine who stood by his side through all of them."


	7. Optional

"Hi, honey."

It was well past dark by the time Bud returned home. He had just enough energy left to drop his briefcase by the door and stumble to the couch in exhaustion. He collapsed on the cushions and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples to relieve a pounding headache.

"Hey, sweetheart," Harriet said, entering the living room and sinking down on the couch next to him. "I was getting worried."

"Sorry," Bud apologized. "We were working really late on the Hanson court-martial. The commander and the colonel just aren't agreeing on this one."

"Aren't they on the same side this time?" Harriet asked in confusion.

Bud groaned and leaned back against the couch. "You wouldn't know it."

"What's the problem?"

"Lieutenant Hanson is an aviator, so of course the commander is giving him the benefit of the doubt."

"Well, isn't Commander Rabb professional enough to stay objective?"

"Except when Colonel MacKenzie keeps contradicting every little thing he says." Bud let out a frustrated sigh. "They've really been at each other's throats lately. You know, sometimes with those two, I just want to—"

"Lock them in a room together and let them duke it out?" Harriet grinned.

Bud shook his head. "No, the last time the admiral locked Commander Rabb in a room, all it did was get him a black eye and two broken ribs." He subconsciously rubbed his jaw where it had cracked under the impact of Commander Rabb and Commander Brumby's fists. "It didn't actually solve anything, and I don't want them to hurt each other, especially right before a court-martial."

Harriet's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Not that kind of room, Bud."

* * *

"Commander Rabb? Colonel MacKenzie?"

The next evening, a young bellhop greeted the two officers politely at the front desk of the hotel. "Lieutenant Roberts mentioned that you would be coming by tonight. I would be happy to show you to the meeting room."

Harm and Mac nodded in agreement and followed the bellhop down the hall to the elevator.

"Why did Bud say we were supposed to meet this witness here?" Harm asked.

"He didn't," Mac replied. "He just said it was important to meet before the court-martial."

"Here we are, sir, ma'am." The bellhop had led them up several floors and down the hall to a quiet suite at the end. He opened the door and motioned for them to enter. "They're expecting you, so please go right in."

"Thank you," Harm said.

As he and Mac entered the room, the bellhop quickly pulled the door closed behind them, bolting it tight from the outside.

"Hey!" Mac exclaimed. She jiggled the door handle. "What's going on?"

"Mac." Harm had stepped further into the room, his eyes dawning with realization.

The lights were turned down low, and soft candlelight flickered on the walls. There was one king-sized bed in the center of the room, the lavish comforter sprinkled with red rose petals. A slow romantic ballad played on the stereo. A bottle of vintage mineral water sat on the desk, chilling on ice next to a box of chocolate covered strawberries and a typewritten note on flowery white stationery.

 _Dear Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie:_

 _The doors will unlock tomorrow morning in time for you to get to court._

 _Don't worry that you don't have your overnight bags...tonight your clothing is optional._


	8. Softball

**Army v navy softball game - an anonymous prompt on Tumblr. This came out a little differently, but it was fun to write. Thank you for the prompt!**

* * *

"Huddle up, Marines!"

Gunny's voice rang out across the ball field as his team converged in a circle around him.

"What do we got, Coach?" Mac asked.

"Bottom of the inning, score is tied," Gunny said. "Roberts is up to bat. Rabb's on second. Mac—"

"I got it." Mac pounded her fist into her glove. "Rabb's not getting anywhere close to third."

Gunny grinned. "You heard the colonel, Marines. Let's go fry some squid!"

As the team broke from their huddle and spread out across the field, Bud stepped up to the plate, swinging the bat.

"Play ball!" Tiner called out.

"Come on, sweetie!" Harriet cheered.

"You got this, Bud," Harm encouraged. He flashed a grin at Mac. "Fire it right over that jarhead's head."

Mac shot him a look and rolled her eyes.

Bud squared his stance and raised the bat over his shoulder. He took a deep breath and focused on the ball as the pitcher wound up and—

"Time out!"

There was a collective groan from both the bleachers and the field as Tiner flipped open his cell phone.

"Petty Officer Tiner." Immediately, he snapped to attention. "Hello, sir. ... Yes, sir. ... He's on second base right now, sir. ... Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

Tiner hurried across the diamond to second base and handed the phone to Harm. "Commander, it's the admiral. He's sending you out on an investigation. He says you'll have to get to third base with the colonel some other time."


	9. Childhood

**I had some trouble deciding whether or not to post this ficlet. It's much more AU, so it's a little different, but I hope you still like it. Please let me know what you think and thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Guys, wait up!"

Eight-year-old Sarah MacKenzie ran as hard as she could to try to keep up with the three long-legged boys ahead of her. Her arms and legs were pumping with all her might, but the boys still beat her to the tree house, two of them clambering up the limbs and then looking back at the third who remained on the ground.

"Sturgis, come on! What are you doing?"

"I can't come up there, Harm."

"Why not?"

"I'm in a submarine. Submarines don't fly."

"Sturgis, you're not _really_ in a submarine," Harm said logically.

"I'm pretending!"

"Guess you can stay down there with the girl then," the other boy laughed.

"Maybe I'm better off with her than you, Keeter," Sturgis shot back.

But Mac had no intention of staying on the ground. When she reached the tree, she didn't even pause before starting to climb up after them. Quickly, she swung from one branch to another, and she was almost to the top when she grabbed on to a branch and lost her footing. She let out a shriek as she dangled precariously from the tree limb.

"Harm! Help me!"

"Mac!" Instantly, Harm dropped to the floor of the tree house and stretched out his hand. "Give me your hand, I'll pull you up."

She did, kicking her legs against the tree trunk to push off as his fingers grasped her arm. With Harm's help, she scrambled up into the tree house, and the two kids fell on top of each other in a tangled heap on the floor.

"Ow!" Mac yanked her arm away from Harm with a squeal.

"Mac, don't be such a girl," Harm grumbled.

Mac rolled up her sleeve and rubbed her arm, and Harm's eyes widened when he saw the nasty purple bruise. It was dark and deep, and it was much bigger than Harm's hand — maybe the size of an adult handprint.

"Mac—"

"I'm fine," she said stubbornly, pulling her sleeve back down and forcing herself not to cry in front of her friends. "It wasn't you."

"Then who?"

"No one," she snapped. "My mom said he didn't mean to."

"Way to go, Rabb," Keeter interrupted, playfully punching his friend on the shoulder. "Now you brought the girl up here. Why do you always have to play the hero?"

"I wouldn't have needed help if you guys had waited for me," Mac said indignantly. Without warning, she spun around and landed a neat karate chop on Harm's forearm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For not waiting for me!"

"You could have stayed down in the submarine with Sturgis," Harm pointed out.

"I'm pretending to be a Marine. Marines can do anything that Navy avi...avi—" She stumbled over the word.

"Aviators," Harm supplied.

"That Navy aviators can do," Mac finished.

Harm rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, ninja girl."

* * *

"Mom?"

Later that evening, Harm peeked into his mother's bedroom and found her examining her reflection in a mirror, putting on some pretty gold earrings.

"Yes, darling?"

"Did Dad leave because I did something bad?"

Trish turned around in surprise. "Of course not," she said reassuringly. "Harm, why would you think that?"

"Because he didn't come home," Harm explained.

"Harm, the reason your father didn't come home has nothing to do with you."

"If I did something bad, he didn't have to leave forever," Harm insisted. "He could have just hit me, and I would have been good."

"Harmon Rabb, Junior!" Trish exclaimed sharply. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Harm looked down at the floor. "Mac's dad hits her," he said quietly.

Trish studied her son carefully. "Harm, that's very serious."

"I saw it today, Mom. She has a huge purple mark on her arm."

"Well, maybe she hurt herself horsing around with you guys. Didn't she try to karate chop you earlier this afternoon?"

Harm examined his arm. Although he would never admit it to Mac, his arm did hurt a little bit, but it didn't look anything like hers.

"Did Keeter and Sturgis see Mac's arm?" Trish asked patiently.

"No, Keeter wasn't paying attention, and Sturgis was down in the submarine."

"Harm, it's possible that she just bruised herself climbing up that tree after you. She wants to do everything you do, you know."

Trish patted her son's hand as she stood up and smoothed her dress.

"Where are you going?" Harm asked.

Trish smiled. "Out to dinner with a very nice man named Frank."

"Oh." Harm's face fell and then suddenly brightened as he had another thought. "Can Mac stay over?"

"If it's okay with your grandma."

* * *

"Evening, Trish." The warm baritone voice of Harmon Rabb, Senior, on a recorded tape filled the living room later that night. "We just got back from a reconnaissance mission, and it's time to get some dinner. Tonight we're having...well, I'm not really sure what this is, to be honest. What I wouldn't give for some of my mom's vegetable lasagna right about now. You tell Little Harm that once he can make a decent batch of vegetable lasagna, not only will he impress all the girls, but he'll impress entire squadrons of Navy pilots. Well, I'm gonna go force down whatever this is and call it a night. Mom, Trish, Harm...I love you, and I'll be home soon."

"Your dad would have liked dinner tonight," Mac said as the tape ended.

She and Harm were sprawled out on the floor while Harm's grandmother held the tape player in her lap in the rocking chair.

"My grandma makes the best vegetable lasagna," Harm declared.

"It was good," Mac agreed. "It would also be good with some meat in it."

"Like what? Dead cow?"

"Okay, you two," Grandma Rabb interjected with a chuckle. "Off to bed with you. Mac, you can sleep on the extra mattress in Harm's room. Harm, grab a blanket for Mac from the closet, okay?"

It didn't take long to put together a makeshift bed for Mac alongside Harm's bed. Both kids crawled under the blankets and settled in.

"Good night, Harm. Good night, Mac," Grandma Rabb said. She pulled the covers up over Harm and kissed his forehead. She did the same for Mac, thinking that she had become quite fond of the little girl who lived down the street and had befriended her grandson so easily. Then she switched the light off and quietly closed the door, leaving the two kids alone in the dark.

"I like your house," Mac said after a moment. "Your dad doesn't yell at your mom. Or your grandma."

"My dad isn't here," Harm pointed out.

"Yeah," Mac said, as if that were her point entirely. "My dad yells all the time. Sometimes I wish he wasn't here."

"Mac, did your dad hurt your arm?"

She didn't answer.

"Mac?"

"Yes," she finally said.

"Mac, your dad shouldn't hit you."

"It's okay, Harm."

"No, it isn't."

"It's fine!" Mac snapped. Angrily, she rolled over, turning her back to Harm. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to hold back the tears, and he heard her sniffle sadly.

"Mac, I'm sorry—"

"Harm, I said it was fine."

He let out a soft sigh. "Mac, go to sleep."

"Harm?"

"What?" he asked irritably. He opened his eyes to find Mac leaning over the side of his bed, her brown eyes peering intently into his.

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Can you be quiet?" Harm muttered, shuffling over to the other side of the bed.

"Yes," Mac whispered as she slipped under the covers beside him.

And when Grandma Rabb looked in on them a few hours later, she found the two best friends curled up next to each other sound asleep.


	10. Thievery

**Hi, everyone! This is the last ficlet for now, but I'm really having a lot of fun writing Harm and Mac, so maybe I'll write again soon. If you have a ficlet prompt that you'd like me to try for Harm and Mac, please send me a message. I can't make any guarantees, but I will try my best. (Also, I'm more familiar with the early JAG seasons, as I can't remember all the new characters in the later seasons.)**

 **I hope you like this ficlet, and thanks again for reading!**

* * *

Sarah MacKenzie was a damn good JAG lawyer. She consistently fought in the courtroom for truth and justice and helped to put those who deserved it behind bars. She never expected to wake one morning and find herself behind those same bars.

Slowly, she regained consciousness and blinked groggily at her surroundings. Her neck and shoulders were sore, and she could feel a knot in the middle of her back from lying on the hard cot in the little cell. She tried to brush a loose tendril of hair out of her face, only to find her wrists bound together in handcuffs.

Mac stifled a gasp as she looked down at her attire, her usual Marine green replaced with an orange jumpsuit. Quickly, she tried to sit up and found that her ankles were also weighted down with heavy chains.

Forcing down a feeling of alarm, she stood and hobbled to the front of the cell.

"Hey!" she called to the guard just outside. "What's going on? Why am I here?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, ma'am," the guard replied. "You'll have to wait for your lawyer."

As if on cue, Mac heard a door open, and footsteps echoed down the hallway as her visitor approached.

"Bud!" she exclaimed.

"Good morning, Colonel MacKenzie," Bud said politely. He nodded at the guard as he unlocked the cell and allowed Bud to step inside.

"Bud, what's going on?"

Bud placed his briefcase on the table and withdrew several files from it. "I'm here to discuss your defense."

"Defense for what?"

"Thievery is a serious crime, Colonel."

Mac's eyes widened in disbelief. "Thievery? What did I steal?"

She shuffled over to the table and clanked her handcuffs against it. "Are these really necessary?" she asked.

"You're considered a severe flight risk," Bud informed her. "When you're accused of stealing something with such high value and carrying it all over the country with you." Bud glanced down at his files in shock. "All over the world, in fact. Japan, Panama, Italy, Russia…good grief, Colonel, you've crossed domestic and international borders, you've been on aircraft, ships, and submarines..."

"With what?" Mac demanded.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know."

"Well, Colonel, you've got to give me something," Bud said reasonably. "The prosecution will call its first witness tomorrow morning."

"Who's the witness?"

"Peterson," Bud read from his file. "Miss Renee Peterson."

Mac gave a sharp laugh. "Renee? Why on earth is Renee being called as a witness?"

Bud raised an eyebrow. "You really don't know, do you, Colonel?"

"No, Bud! That's what I've been trying to tell you. I have no idea why I'm here. What did I steal?"

"Commander Rabb's heart, ma'am."


	11. Security detail

**Hi, again! I hope you don't mind if I add a few more ficlets. It's funny, Harm and Mac haven't been on screen in years, but I'm really having a lot of fun writing the two of them right now. I hope you still enjoy reading!**

 **This is a morning after scene for the episode where they find out Clark Palmer is not actually in prison and Mac sleeps over at Harm's to protect him.**

* * *

It's not even 0600 when Harm wakes up for his morning run. Quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping Marine on his couch, he pulls on a tank top and running shorts and laces up his sneakers. He silently strides down the steps, and he's mere inches away from the door.

"Harm."

 _Damn_.

Mac is wrapped up in the blanket on his couch, but he can tell from her voice that she's wide awake. Maybe she never even went to sleep. When she throws back the blanket and he sees that she's already dressed in her own running gear, Harm rolls his eyes.

"Don't start," Mac tells him sternly. "Clark Palmer is out there somewhere, and I'm not going to let you run alone at dawn."

He looks as if he's about to argue, but he seems to reconsider the idea and nods towards the door. "Only if you think you can keep up, Marine."

Mac scoffs. "Bring it on, Navy."

* * *

It's actually a rather uneventful run. The morning air is crisp and cool, and Mac holds her own with the fast pace he sets. They make good time on the wooded trail, running side by side, but Harm can tell that she's watching behind every tree and rock.

It's comforting, he thinks, even if it's a little obsessive. And it's nice to have a companion. Jordan never wants to run with him, and she would never allow him to go if she knew there might be a sociopath after him. He thinks she'll feel better when he tells her about his Marine security detail.

When they return to his apartment, they're both hot and sweaty, and Harm takes some orange juice out of the fridge and pours two glasses.

She's still gulping down the liquid when Harm motions to the bathroom. "You can get a shower if you want."

Mac shakes her head. "I'm supposed to be watching out for you, remember?"

"Mac, I'm sure you can take a few minutes and—"

"No."

"Then am I allowed to take a shower?" he asks.

Mac shifts uncomfortably. "Harm, if something happens while you're in there..."

"Well, Mac, either you trust that Palmer isn't going to come through my bathroom wall, or we'll both smell like a dirty sweat sock all day."

"Is there another option?"

Harm's eyes darken. "We could always shower together."

Maybe he won't tell Jordan about his security detail after all.


	12. Fairy tale

**Fairy tale – another 5-sentence ficlet.**

* * *

It's her wedding day and Mac's heart is filled with thoughts of the man who's about to become her husband – until there's a knock on the door and a long moment of awkward silence as mother and daughter lay eyes on each other for only the second time in almost a lifetime.

"Look at you," Deanne finally says, her eyes crinkling with happiness at the vision of white satin and lace in front of her. "When you were little, I always dreamed that you would marry a prince who would just sweep you off your feet and treat you like the princess you are."

Something inside Mac melts at her mother's admission, and in the spirit of the occasion, she feels her heart slowly open with forgiveness.

"He's not a prince, Mom...he's a Navy captain."


	13. Fantasy

**A steamy little scene based on the episode where Mac is assigned as the judge for a case.**

* * *

"Objection overruled."

"You've got to be kidding!" Harm is completely stunned. "Your Honor," he adds reluctantly.

Mac glares at him.

Two witnesses and two cross-examinations later, Harm isn't any closer to acquitting his client. He's frustrated because every argument he makes has been shot down, and he knows it has to do with the judge presiding over this case.

"Court is in recess for one hour," Mac finally announces, banging the gavel.

As the crowd files out of the courtroom, she steps down from the bench to confront the cocky defense lawyer. "Commander Rabb."

"Colonel MacKenzie," he mimics. His eyes pin her with a look of distrust and annoyance.

"Something wrong, Commander?" she asks.

The doors of the courtroom swing closed behind the last of the procession, and the two of them are left alone.

Harm leans back against the defense table, crossing his arms over his chest. "With any other judge, I would have won this case days ago."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not complying with your schedule," Mac retorts.

He doesn't respond, and when it seems that he doesn't have anything more to say, she turns to leave.

His hand shoots out and catches her arm.

"You don't let me get away with anything," he says quietly. "You know the law, Mac. You're good."

His eyes have changed now, to something bordering on admiration instead of contempt. His words touch her heart and his touch spreads heat straight to her core.

She smiles. "Well, I guess the defense counsel isn't so bad either."

And suddenly she's kissing him hard, and she doesn't care that they're in the middle of an empty courtroom because all she cares about is loosening the tie around his neck and tugging his jacket off his shoulders. Her fingers glide over the ribbons and gold wings to unbutton his shirt, and she can feel him tremble as she traces the hard muscles of his chest.

There's a soft click as she releases the belt at his waist, and she can barely think straight beyond the notion that the judge probably shouldn't have her hand down the defense attorney's pants.

Then again, his tongue probably shouldn't be down her throat. His kisses are deep and passionate and his fingers are just as nimble, peeling away layers of Marine green to reveal the lacy lingerie beneath her uniform.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Harm murmurs against her mouth.

But his hips slide deliciously against hers as he steps between her legs, and she doesn't think there can possibly be a law against anything that feels this good.

"Do you have an objection, counselor?" she whispers breathlessly.

He trails a line of hot kisses down her neck and slowly bends her backwards over the table. "None, Your Honor."

 _Your Honor..._

"…Your Honor?"

Mac feels like she's about to spiral completely out of control when she becomes vaguely aware of a concerned voice speaking from the defense side of the courtroom. It's no longer his deep, husky bedroom voice but the professional tone of a defense lawyer.

Her cheeks flush with heat, and she has to swallow hard to regain her grip on reality.

"Yes, Commander," she manages to squeak. "Please proceed."

But her heart sinks just a little as Harm stands to present his closing argument – fully clothed – and she finds that her fantasy is completely gone.


	14. Another four percent solution

**Hi, everyone! I wanted to try writing ficlets again to help with some writer's block. Hope you like this one - thanks for reading!**

* * *

 **Discussion about having kids Mac thinks harm should move on because she can't have kids but harm assures her there is no one else for him.** _**\- prompt from a fellow Tumblr user. Thank you for the prompt!**_

* * *

It was raining. It almost never rained in San Diego, but the water was spilling in torrents from the dark, angry clouds, and it didn't show any signs of letting up.

 _What a dreary day,_ Mac thought as she stood at the kitchen window, watching the raindrops splatter against the glass. _Well, it will probably feel just like London to Harm._

The tea kettle whistled on the stove, and there was a knock at the door, and Mac hurried to answer it even though she knew it couldn't possibly be her husband already.

"Trish! Hi!"

"Hello, darling." Harm's mother stood just over the threshold, shaking out a very soggy umbrella. She stepped into the apartment and enveloped Mac in a friendly hug.

"Harm's not here yet," Mac explained. "His flight was delayed because of the weather. I was just making some tea...can I offer you a cup?"

"Tea would be lovely, dear," Trish said, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "Weather like this just chills us to the bone here in southern California."

"Harm's probably used to the rain by now," Mac said with a smile as she poured two steaming cups of tea.

"Well, it's about time my son came stateside again," Trish muttered. "How long has it been this time?"

"Three months, six days, four hours, and sixteen minutes," Mac said automatically.

Trish stared at her in wonder. "I don't know how you do that."

Mac grinned. "Neither does Harm."

"Well, I certainly hope that my future grandchild inherits your sense of timing and not Harm's." Trish accepted the cup of tea and stirred it thoughtfully, not noticing the color suddenly draining from Mac's face. "I swear, sometimes that son of mine is as thickheaded as his father was. He's made me wait quite long enough. I expect that he'll be doing his part to make sure a grandchild happens sooner rather than later, won't he?"

"Trish, I—I don't know if that's possible," Mac said quietly.

Trish looked up in alarm. "Why? What did he do this time?"

"Um, no, it's—it's not Harm."

Instantly Trish's expression turned to concern. "Mac?"

Mac twisted her hands nervously and took a sip of tea to settle the empty feeling in her stomach.

"I can't have children," she admitted. "It's endometriosis."

Trish let out a faint breath of surprise. "Oh, Mac, I'm so sorry. Does Harm know?" she asked tentatively.

Mac nodded, quickly brushing away a tear from her cheek. "He's known for a long time."

"Oh, darling," Trish whispered soothingly, wrapping her arms around Mac.

Mac closed her eyes and reveled for a moment in the comfort of Harm's mother's arms. She had accepted her condition at this point, but every so often the harsh reality caused the emotions to bubble up inside of her again.

"I think he always wanted a son," Mac said softly, "so he could teach his own son how to fly. I just wish I could give him that. He's the Force Judge Advocate of Naval Forces Europe. He should have everything he wants."

Trish rolled her eyes and waved her hand dramatically. "Mac, that doesn't matter to him, and I wouldn't care if he were the Force Judge Advocate of the universe. He's still my son, and he's still very much in love with his wife."

The words warmed her heart, and Mac sniffled sadly. "The doctors say I have, um, less than a four percent chance of getting pregnant."

"Four percent?" Trish asked. "There's still a chance then?"

"Just barely."

"Well, darling, then mathematically speaking, there's only one way to go about this." Trish winked at her daughter-in-law knowingly. "More practice."


	15. The art of dating

**A prompt from a fellow Tumblr user based on the scene in "Yeah Baby" (JAG 4x23) where Mac and Chloe are having a slumber party and Harm makes a visit to Mac's apartment. Thank you for the prompt!**

 _ **So how often does this happen, when did it first happen, why, and does Mac keep anything special in the fridge/pantry for Harm on his not infrequent visits? Also, this scene reminds me of the Mac/Chloe dynamic, so what does Mac say and how much does Chloe make up (she does like to stir up trouble)?**_

* * *

Cornelia Warren strongly believed in the rewards of being a school psychologist. Every day she saw children from all types of backgrounds, occasionally from a very rough start in life, and many of them simply thrived with the help of a friendly ear and a second chance.

For instance, Cornelia had been counseling Chloe Madison for a while now. Chloe was an orphan whose poor grades and rebellious behavior had forced the school to send her to weekly psychological sessions.

At first, Chloe had refused to talk, spending most of the session sulking on the couch. But in the past month or so, Cornelia had seen Chloe make a remarkable turnaround, and she was certain that it was due to her recommendation to place Chloe in a mentoring program with a big sister.

 _Major Sarah MacKenzie_ , Cornelia read from the file. Over the past month, Chloe had spoken so often and so highly of her big sister that Cornelia had finally suggested that she come by the school during one of their sessions.

"Excuse me, Ms. Warren?" One of the secretaries poked her head into the office. "Ensign Sims just called from the Judge Advocate General's office. She says Major MacKenzie was delayed in court and is running a few minutes late."

"Thank you, Sylvia. That's no problem at all," Cornelia said with a wave of her hand.

"Hi, Ms. Warren!"

Cornelia looked up as Chloe bounded into the office. The energy and the bright smile on the child's face were definitely new in the last month.

"Good afternoon, Chloe," Cornelia said. "It sounds like your big sister is running a little late at work, but she'll be here soon."

"She works a lot," Chloe confirmed, clambering up on the couch and plopping down on the oversized pillows.

"So how are things going with you and Mac?" Cornelia asked pleasantly.

"Great," Chloe replied.

"And how's her boyfriend?"

"Oh, he's good, too," Chloe said without missing a beat. "He came over last night and made chicken wings for dinner. He makes them from scratch, and he puts bread crumbs on them, and he makes his own sauce to go with it."

Cornelia couldn't help but smile at the little girl's enthusiasm. "That sounds great. So Mac's boyfriend likes chicken wings?"

"No," Chloe said. "He doesn't eat them. He makes them for Mac and me when we have slumber parties at her apartment."

Cornelia raised an eyebrow. "Does her boyfriend sleep over, too?"

Chloe shook her head. "No, he and Mac only sleep together when they go away."

The implications of Chloe's statement made Cornelia shift uncomfortably. "Um, what exactly do you mean by that, Chloe?"

"You know," Chloe said, as if Cornelia should certainly have an idea. "When they're away for work and have to sleep together. They did it in Russia. And in the desert." Chloe leaned forward conspiratorially. "They've even done it on a submarine," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, did you say a submarine?" Cornelia couldn't contain the surprise in her voice. "But...um, Mac's boyfriend doesn't stay overnight when you're there?" she asked. She didn't really want to pry into Mac's personal life, but she felt that it was her professional duty to confirm that nothing too inappropriate was happening in Chloe's presence.

"No, he only stays for a little while after I go to bed. Mac tells me to go put on my jammies, and then she tucks me into bed and goes back out to the living room. I'm supposed to be asleep, but I can hear them arguing."

"They...argue?" Cornelia asked in disbelief.

"When they're working on a case," Chloe assured her. "I think it's a lawyer thing. Don't worry, Ms. Warren. They're not really arguing with each other." Chloe crossed her arms over her chest, looking slightly smug. "A woman can sense this kind of thing."

Cornelia's lips curved into a smile as she breathed a sigh of immense relief. "Oh, really? Does a woman also eavesdrop on her sister?"

"It's a small apartment," Chloe said matter-of-factly.

Just then, Cornelia's office phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Warren, Major MacKenzie is here."

"Thank you, please send her in."

The office door opened, and Cornelia found herself holding her breath as she came face-to-face with the Marine major she had heard so much about.

"Hey, Mac," Chloe said, waving from her comfy position on the couch.

"Major MacKenzie," Cornelia greeted, standing up to shake hands. "I'm Cornelia Warren, the school psychologist. It's so nice to finally meet you. Chloe has told me so much about you."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Mac apologized, taking a seat on the couch next to Chloe.

"That's quite all right," Cornelia replied. "Chloe says you're a busy woman, and you often travel a lot for work."

"I do," Mac confirmed. "It doesn't always leave me a lot of time to spend with Chloe, but I try to make extra time for her whenever I'm home."

"Slumber parties with junk food?" Cornelia asked with a knowing grin.

Mac cringed. "She told you about the two pounds of chicken wings last night, didn't she? Chloe!"

Chloe squealed with laughter as Mac wrapped her in a loose headlock and ruffled her hair. "But I am at a vital stage of my development, and I require lots of protein!"

Cornelia laughed along with them. "Well, I suppose we can overlook the nutritional value of chicken wings for one night when the real value is a happy kid. Major MacKenzie, Chloe is doing exceptionally well."

"Oh, that's great," Mac said. She looked over at Chloe and smiled with pride. "She's a good kid."

"She's doing better in school," Cornelia continued. "She's excited to come here every week. It even seems like she's moved past some of her problems with telling the truth. As you know, Chloe has such a vivid imagination that sometimes it's hard to tell which parts of her stories are true and which parts are simply her fantasies. But it sounds like she's doing much better."

"We've had several conversations about lying," Mac explained, shooting a disapproving glare over at Chloe.

Chloe simply pasted on her most innocent smile.

Cornelia closed the file on her desk and smiled warmly at Mac. "Well, it sounds like you and your boyfriend are wonderful role models for Chloe."

Mac blinked in surprise. "My...boyfriend?"

"Why, yes," Cornelia said. "Chloe tells me that you've been dating a U.S. Navy commander for quite some time now."


	16. Heartbreak

**A little tag to the Boomerang episodes in Australia where Harm's imagination (and mine apparently) goes a little crazy.**

* * *

 _ **Maybe having Harm being hit into his head again, Mac taking care of him and he would think that her solicitude is just his imagination. But because it is so nice, he'll give in and reveal his feeling.**_ **\- prompt from a fellow Tumblr user - thank you for the prompt!**

* * *

The old warehouse wasn't soundproof, but the heavy brick walls muffled a good part of the noise, and there wasn't anyone close enough to hear the crash anyway. The structure was also in disrepair, so even if someone had been nearby, they might have thought it was just a piece of the building crumbling with age.

It was actually the sound of an Australian Navy commander smashing a U.S. Navy commander against the wall.

"Come on, mate. You really think you can take me on here? You're on my turf now. My country, my home court."

Harm quickly shook off the daze from the sheer force of slamming into the wall. "This isn't a boxing match, Brumby," he spat.

"Yeah, you're right. It's a bloody pub fight. Come on," Mic dared in a low voice. "Bring it on, mate."

Harm rolled his eyes. "I'm not bringing it anywhere, mate," he shot back. "My orders are only to inflict a certain amount of pain."

"Yeah? So are mine."

Mic's angry fist connected with Harm's face with a loud crack, and Harm returned the blow with similar force.

The Australian commander stumbled backwards, but he recovered quickly, only to have Harm tackle him to the ground. The concrete floor scraped against bare flesh where they had stripped their blouses, and the sand and dirt streaked the remainder of their summer white uniforms.

"Is that all you got, Brumby?"

Fury was starting to blindside the U.S. commander as he hauled his adversary to his feet and pummeled him against the wall.

Mic cursed with pain as Harm violently wrenched both of his arms backwards. He twisted out of the chokehold, digging his elbow sharply into Harm's chest and spinning around to land a swift punch to his stomach.

He received the same strike in retaliation. Both men sent each other sprawling, and Harm's head struck the concrete with a sickening thud.

And then everything went black.

* * *

"Harm."

 _Mac?_ He could have sworn he heard her voice. _What is she doing here?_

But it hurt too much to open his eyes, and the painful ache behind his temples wouldn't stop throbbing. Gingerly, he brought a hand up to his face and flinched when his fingers met something sticky. Blood, he realized. Probably his own.

He felt her drop to her knees beside him on the cold concrete, grasping his hand and shooting tender warmth up his arm.

"Come on, Harm, stay with me."

Harm tried to sit up, but the room immediately spun in circles, and he groaned and fell backwards into Mac's arms. "I—I must have hit my head."

"I think you also cracked a couple of ribs," Mac informed him, running a finger over the dark bruises forming on his bare chest. Her touch sent his pulse skyrocketing. She traced another finger over the swelling beneath his eye. "And you're looking at a pretty good shiner here."

"Brumby?" he asked weakly.

"Looks worse than you do," Mac assured him.

"Mac, I—"

"Shhhh," she whispered, placing a finger over his lips. "Can you stand up?"

"Yeah."

Slowly, Harm rose to his feet, leaning heavily on Mac for support. When he was finally upright, she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him close.

"Mac," he breathed, "what are you doing?"

"I don't know, sailor," she whispered with a secretive smile. "This is _your_ dream."

Harm briefly wondered if he had hit his head harder than he thought, but all thought was interrupted as her lips brushed against his, softly at first, and then suddenly plundering his mouth with a hunger that only he could satisfy.

"Mac." Harm spoke more forcefully this time, his breathing ragged as the electricity crackled between them. "What…what are you doing?"

She pressed a gentle kiss against his bruised cheekbone. "I'm not waiting for eternity, Commander."

 _Commander...Commander…_

* * *

"Co-man-therr? Eck-thuse me, Co-man-therr? Are woo othay, thir?"

Harm slowly drifted back into consciousness at the sound of a fuzzy, insistent voice in his ear.

"Qantas Flight 7 will be landing in Los Angeles in one hour."

There was also another voice coming over an intercom that was much clearer than the first.

As reality clawed its way into his subconscious and forced him from his dream, Harm finally opened his eyes and found himself sitting in an airplane seat with Bud staring at him curiously.

"Hewwo, thir. I tink woo err dwee-ming." Bud was trying hard to enunciate clearly, but it was truly impossible with his broken jaw. He waved his hand in greeting instead. "Are woo othay, thir?"

Harm stared at him blankly, not comprehending for a moment, but then he saw the concern in Bud's eyes.

"I'm fine, Bud," he replied, suddenly feeling his guilt settle like a rock in the pit of his stomach. "Bud," he began hesitantly. "I don't know how to say—"

"Ith othay, thir."

It wasn't okay, but Harm appreciated the fact that Bud was trying to ease his conscience. He laid a friendly hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, wincing as the movement jostled his broken ribs.

Harm shifted in his seat to stifle his sharp gasp of pain, and his gaze fell on Mac across the aisle from him. She seemed to be lost in thought, staring out the window at the passing clouds, and when she reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Harm caught sight of Brumby's shiny ring on her right hand.

It felt like being punched in the gut all over again.

 _Don't come out until you administer pain equal to what you inflicted on Lieutenant Roberts._

And he wondered if a broken jaw could hurt any more than his broken heart.


	17. Waiting for you, my love

**My JAG muse went a little crazy here. It also helps if you've seen the NCIS season 13 finale.**

* * *

The airport in Paris is busy at this time of day, with flights coming and going and passengers hurrying to collect baggage and reach their next destination. In one of the terminals, there's a small waiting area, and a young woman with dark hair and eyes sits quietly as she watches the activity around her.

She's jostled as another traveler accidentally bumps into her chair, and she looks up to see another woman, a brunette who must be nearly a decade older but still holds youthful beauty and a sparkle in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," the woman apologizes. "I was just looking for a place to sit for a minute."

The younger woman gives the newcomer a friendly smile and motions to the seat next to her. "You are waiting for someone, yes?"

"My husband," the woman replies. "He's supposed to meet me to catch our flight to London, but as usual, he's late." She shakes her head and laughs. "My husband is going to be late to his own retirement dining out tonight. But I guess they wait for you when you're the Force Judge Advocate of Naval Forces Europe."

"Naval Forces?" The words bring on a sudden sharp pang of nostalgia. "Your husband...he is in the Navy?"

"He is."

"And you? You are also military?"

"Marine," she answers with pride.

"Mac!"

The Marine looks up and smiles as she sees her husband making his way through the crowd.

"Sorry I'm late." Her husband is tall and handsome, and there's love shining in his eyes as he leans down, cups her face in his hands, and kisses his wife deeply.

When they finally break apart, the woman hoists her bag over her shoulder and offers a farewell nod.

"I hope you don't have to wait too much longer," she says with a smile.

She takes her husband's hand, and they disappear into the crowd, and the younger woman is left alone in the waiting area again.

And then – finally – she hears what she's been waiting for.

"Ima!"

 _Tali._

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of her daughter bouncing excitedly, her small hand grasped by another hand much larger than hers.

That hand remains tightly attached to the little girl, but his other hand comes up to caress her cheek, and his lips claim hers in a tender kiss.

"Shalom, Ziva," he whispers breathlessly.

"Shalom, Tony."


	18. The art of dating - Part II

**A sequel ficlet to Chapter 15. You should definitely read that chapter first.**

* * *

 _If this is to ask me to babysit, the answer is a big no_.

That's what he had told Mac the very first time he had met Chloe.

That's also what he had told her this morning.

" _Harm," she pleaded. "This is my only chance to see my little sister, but I have a big meeting with a client this afternoon, and it might run late, so if you could just watch her for a little while..."_

" _Mac, I am not going to babysit just to help you get out of your big sister duties."_

" _I'm not asking you to do that," she argued._

" _Then what are you asking me to do?"_

" _Play big brother for a couple hours?"_

And when she had looked up at him with a sweet smile and those pleading brown eyes, he had to admit that something inside him had melted completely.

And that's how Harmon Rabb found himself at the grocery store with a little sister tagging along.

"Harm, I think we need some of these," Chloe declared, putting a box of cereal in the grocery cart.

With a suspicious look in his eye, Harm removed the box and scrutinized the label. "It's all sugar."

"That's what makes it good."

Harm shook his head in disbelief. "Does Mac let you eat this crap?"

"Yes."

"Right, I'm sure she's eating it along with you." Harm rolled his eyes and put the box back in the cart. "One box. That's it. And not before dinner."

Chloe grinned. She wondered if Harm had any idea just how parental he sounded.

She skipped ahead as the two of them made their way down the aisle and around the corner to the fresh produce section. Chloe knew that Harm would take a while to select the vegetables for dinner.

"Why, hello, Chloe!"

Chloe spun around at the familiar voice. "Hi, Ms. Warren!"

Cornelia Warren had been perusing the selection of tomatoes when she spotted one of the children she had been counseling at school. Chloe Madison was one of her favorite success stories, and she attributed much of that success to the friendship Chloe had found in her big sister, Sarah MacKenzie.

"How's everything going?" she asked.

"Fine," Chloe replied.

"How's Mac? This is one of your mentoring days with her, right?"

Chloe nodded. "But she had to go to a meeting, so Harm's here instead."

As the handsome Navy commander dropped an assortment of peppers and zucchini into his grocery cart, Cornelia's eyes lit up with immediate recognition. "Commander Rabb," she said. "I'm Cornelia Warren, the psychologist at Chloe's school."

"Harm," he said politely, extending his hand. He was in the grocery store and saw no reason for military formalities.

"It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"From Chloe?" Harm sounded puzzled.

"Of course," Cornelia said with a smile. "You and Mac are all she ever talks about."

Just then, Harm's cell phone rang.

"Commander Rabb. ... Yeah? … Are you sure? ... So he didn't take the plea bargain?"

As Harm nodded apologetically and turned away to talk on the phone, Cornelia glanced over at Chloe.

"It's Mac," the little girl replied to the unasked question.

"Do they talk on the phone a lot?"

"All the time," Chloe confirmed. "The other night, they talked until almost midnight." She lowered her voice to a secretive whisper. "Mac thought I was asleep, but I wasn't."

"Eavesdropping again, are we?" Cornelia whispered back with a sly wink.

Chloe shrugged innocently. "Like I said, it's a small apartment. They were talking about the case that Mac's working on. That's what they're talking about now, even though he's just going to see her tonight."

"Is Harm cooking dinner again?" Cornelia asked. She motioned to some of the items in the grocery cart.

"Yeah, he's making vegetable lasagna."

Chloe said it so casually that Cornelia was certain that dinner at Mac's had become a fairly frequent occurrence now.

"Well, that sounds delicious," Cornelia said. She could almost feel her mouth watering at the thought.

"Chloe, Mac's on her way home," Harm announced, snapping his phone closed. "And she is one lean, mean, hungry Marine."

"Well, I won't keep you then," Cornelia laughed. She smiled warmly at Harm. "Have a wonderful evening. I'm sure your girlfriend will appreciate having a home-cooked meal waiting for her."

Harm blinked in surprise. "My...girlfriend?"

"Why, yes," Cornelia said. "Chloe tells me that you've been dating the Marine major for quite some time now."


	19. In a rose garden

**Hi, everyone! This ficlet is actually somewhat of a prequel to chapter 12, but I also really like it as an ending ficlet for this whole collection. I always hoped that Harm and Mac would live happily ever after. I've had so much fun writing the two of them, but I'm going to take a little break from writing now, as real life has become extremely busy. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you like the ending!**

* * *

 _"_ _And so from that day forth, with evil banished forever and peace restored to the magical kingdom, the handsome prince and the beautiful princess lived happily ever after. The end."_

 _Six-year-old Sarah MacKenzie sighed happily as she snuggled deeper into her pillow. "Read it again, Mama."_

 _Deanne closed the book with a smile. "Not tonight, sweetheart. Right now it's time for my princess to go to sleep."_

 _"But I'm not sleepy," Sarah protested with a yawn._

 _"You always say that," Deanne laughed. "But all princesses need their beauty sleep." She gently kissed her daughter's forehead and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp._

 _"Mama?"_

 _The urgent whisper made Deanne pause._

 _"Do fairy tales ever come true?"_

 _"Of course they do." She patted Sarah's arm reassuringly. "And someday I'm sure that a very handsome prince will fall in love with you and he'll sweep you off your feet and take you away to his castle."_

 _Even in the dark, Deanne could see the smile spread across her daughter's face._

 _"Good night, Mama."_

 _"Good night, sweetheart."_

~*~o~*~

 _After quietly closing the bedroom door behind her, Deanne made her way into the kitchen. She had just started cleaning up the dishes when the front door opened with a bang._

 _"_ _Where's my dinner, woman?"_

 _Joseph MacKenzie sauntered unsteadily into the kitchen and slumped against the counter, his eyes sunken in and his voice thick with inebriation._

 _Deanne simply ignored her husband and focused on scrubbing one of the plates._

 _"I'm talking to you!" he bellowed._

 _"Dinner was over two hours ago," she replied calmly._

 _"Well, I'm hungry now."_

 _"Joseph, you're drunk."_

 _"I'm not drunk," came the slurred reply._

 _"Yes, you are—oh!"_

 _Deanne gave a startled cry as he shoved her aside and snatched the plate from her hands. Angrily, he smashed it against the floor, sending ceramic pieces scattering in all directions._

 _"When I ask for something, woman," he growled, grabbing her arm and pinning her against the counter, "I expect you to do something about it!"_

 _"_ _Joseph, calm down. This is just the alcohol talking." Deanne tried to keep her voice steady even as her hands trembled and her head spun from the smell of alcohol on his breath._

 _"Mama?"_

 _Deanne just barely heard the small voice over the commotion, and she was thankful that Joseph was far too drunk and enraged to notice the little girl peeking out from behind the refrigerator._

 _"Sarah, go back to bed," she said sternly._

 _Her daughter hesitated._

 _"Now, Sarah!"_

 _Frightened by her father's fury and the fear in her mother's voice, Sarah quickly scurried back to bed and wrapped her blankets tightly around herself._

 _And then she heard the very first strike against her mother._

 _She squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn't stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks._

 _This wasn't supposed to happen in fairy tales._

* * *

A wistful smile crossed the face of the florist who sat at a large craft table inside her shop, surrounded by an assortment of purple flowers. With an expert eye, she carefully selected the blossoms with the brightest petals and added them to the bouquet. She fluffed some of the leaves and tucked a few sprigs of snow white baby's breath into the vase with them.

As a finishing touch, she wrapped a large satin bow around the mouth of the vase and then leaned back to examine her work. With a satisfied sigh, she reached for a pen and made a bold checkmark next to the name on the order form.

 _Anderson wedding. Complete_.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had spared absolutely no expense for their daughter's wedding. The church with a grand cathedral ceiling, hundreds of guests, a fully catered reception, a multi-layered cake, and floral arrangements in the rich color of royalty would have put even the most romantic fairy tale wedding to shame.

It was weddings like these that broke Deanne's heart.

She had given up on the dream of a fairy tale wedding for her own daughter a long time ago. The innocent little girl who had cherished those bedtime stories had grown up and left the shattered memories behind. Deanne hadn't even seen her daughter in years, and wherever she was now, Deanne was certain that she never gave her mother a second's thought.

 _Why should I care if you were frightened that I might reject you? You rejected me. You abandoned me._

Her daughter's accusations still stung.

The fallout from her own failed marriage still hurt.

And every flower that she added to a wedding bouquet fueled just a little more envy – and emptiness – inside of her.

Deanne's thoughts were interrupted as the jingling of the bell above the front door alerted her to a new customer. With a soft groan, she slowly rose from the stool where she had been arranging the bouquets and waddled over to the counter. She was an older, heavyset woman who didn't move very fast at all.

"Oh, my poor feet," she muttered. She gave an embarrassed smile to the short, blond woman who had just entered the shop. "Phlebitis," she explained. "I can't do much anymore except sit here and arrange flowers."

The new customer returned the smile politely, but her eyes darted around nervously, as if she wasn't quite sure she was in the right place.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so," the woman replied. "I'm Harriet Sims Roberts. I think we spoke over the phone?"

"Oh, yes. I'm Deanne. You were looking for roses?"

"Desperately." Harriet strode urgently up to the counter. "My florist cancelled at the last minute, and I need roses for a wedding in four days."

"A wedding?" Deanne felt her heart sink. _Not another one_ , she thought privately.

"In four days," Harriet emphasized.

"I see," Deanne said quietly. "Um, so what can I help you with?"

"We don't need anything fancy," Harriet explained. "It's a very small wedding, a military ceremony outdoors on a hillside in Virginia. I just need a few bouquets for the tables and a vine of flowers woven into the wedding arch."

"And you're definitely looking for roses?"

"Yes, ma'am." Harriet's eyes sparkled. "Because the bride and groom met in a rose garden."

It was a romantic image that twisted Deanne's stomach into knots, and she tried to force down the familiar feeling of jealousy. She could just imagine how beautiful an outdoor wedding in a rose garden would be. Quickly, she looked away, wringing her hands together in frustration.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm sorry, dear," Deanne apologized, quickly swallowing the lump in her throat. "A rose garden, you said? Well, that sounds awfully romantic. Let me see what we have here."

Deanne hummed softly to herself as she pawed through some of the sample flower baskets behind the counter. She tossed a few of them aside, shaking her head, until she finally selected a bright white basket with a simple straight weave. Harriet quickly nodded her approval.

Just then, the bell over the door rang again, and a man with a barely discernible limp entered the shop.

"Hi, honey."

"Did you get them?" Harriet asked eagerly.

Bud nodded, reaching into the small bag he was carrying and pulling out a black velvet box. Carefully, he opened it to reveal two gold wedding bands.

Harriet couldn't contain her gasp. "Oh, Bud, they're beautiful."

Deanne cast a scrutinizing glance over at Bud. "So this is Prince Charming?" she guessed.

Harriet giggled and gave Bud's arm a loving squeeze. "Well, he's definitely my Prince Charming, but we're already married. It's two of our best friends getting married now."

"I'm the best man," Bud explained. He tucked the rings safely back into the bag and slipped them into his pocket, patting his side several times as if to assure himself that they wouldn't fall out. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "Honey, I thought we were all set with the flowers?"

"Oh, Bud, it's horrible." Harriet sighed dramatically. "The florist cancelled four days before the wedding, and it was a miracle that I just happened to find Deanne here. The colonel is flying in from San Diego tomorrow for her final dress fitting, and the captain's mother and stepfather will be here the day after. The captain himself won't even make it out of London until the day before the wedding. Commander Turner is still on a submarine in the Arabian Sea. And Admiral Chegwidden is coming all the way from Italy..." Harriet trailed off as her eyes grew wide. "What if they don't all make it here in time? What if they get stuck somewhere? What if something comes up, and the captain and the colonel aren't able to take leave? Bud—"

"Honey," Bud said firmly, grasping his wife by the shoulders and shaking her gently. "Relax. Everything will be fine. And everyone will make it here in time, including the captain and the colonel." He grinned. "After all, we can't really have the wedding without them."

Harriet nodded and took a deep breath. "I know, I know, you're right. I just want to make sure everything is perfect for them."

"And it will be," Bud assured her. He gently kissed his wife's forehead. "Because they couldn't have asked for a better wedding planner."

Deanne let out a rather ungraceful snort of laughter. "Sounds like maybe you should have planned the wedding in an airport between their connecting flights."

Bud winced, although he could see a slight bit of truth and humor in that statement. "We're all busy people, ma'am," he admitted, "but we're going to make this wedding work for our friends."

"They won't even get a honeymoon," Harriet mused sadly. "They both have those meetings with the SECNAV in Washington and then there's the congressional committee—"

"Harriet!" Bud quickly interrupted before his wife could take off on another tangent. "They have a whole day after the wedding before the meetings start. I'm sure they'll be able to spend some time together"—Bud's ears turned a little pink—"uh…out of uniform."

"You're right," Harriet repeated again, still trying to convince herself. "Everything will be fine, the wedding will be wonderful, and the captain and the colonel will finally be able to have their happily ever after."

Deanne had been quietly trimming the stems of several dozen red roses, but now she blew out a breath in a huff. "Flying halfway across the world to get married in the middle of some boring political meetings?" she scoffed. "Doesn't sound like much of a fairy tale to me."

"With all due respect, ma'am." Bud immediately leapt to the defense of his friends. "It might not be a fairy tale in the traditional sense, but the captain and the colonel have always been there for each other. They've traveled the whole world together and have saved each other's sixes more times than we can count. And just because they're both unfailingly committed to their duty doesn't mean that they're also not committed to their love for each other. And if you don't consider that to be a fairy tale…well, then maybe it's not."

Bud actually looked a little surprised by his outburst – as if he couldn't believe all of that had come out of his mouth – and Deanne looked completely taken aback.

"I'm—I'm sorry," she said quietly. Her eyes dropped ashamedly, resembling the expression of a hurt little girl. "Sometimes I just get a little emotional about weddings."

Instantly, Bud's face softened, and he shared a look of understanding with his wife.

"I never had a fairy tale wedding," Deanne admitted. "I always hoped my daughter would have one instead." A tiny smile crept onto her face. "My daughter loved fairy tales. You know, a beautiful princess waiting for her prince to ride in on his snow white steed..."

Bud chuckled. "Well, I think a steel gray F-14 Tomcat would be more the style for this wedding, ma'am."

Deanne's brow furrowed in confusion, and Harriet shot her husband an amused look.

"That's only when you marry a fighter pilot," Harriet pointed out with a cheeky grin. She turned to Deanne. "But the snow white steed sounds just lovely."

Deanne's expression instantly soured. "Well, it never happened," she snapped.

"I'm sorry?"

"I wouldn't know anything about my daughter's wedding."

Angrily, Deanne finished snipping the stems from another set of roses and forcefully shoved them into the bouquet. She set the arrangement down in front of Bud and Harriet. "What do you think?" she asked curtly.

Bud and Harriet exchanged a brief look of concern, but Harriet recovered quickly, her eyes widening in awe. "Well, I think it's just beautiful," she gushed. "What do you think, Bud?"

Even Bud had to admit that the flowers were stunning.

Deanne had arranged a beautiful pattern of red and white roses on a thick bed of green leaves. The roses almost seemed to climb up the woven basket, resembling a trellis in a rose garden. She had also strung several roses together on a braided vine, and Harriet thought it would look just perfect over the altar as the captain and the colonel exchanged their vows.

"Thank you so much for helping with this," Harriet said gratefully. "You're truly our savior for this wedding."

Deanne waved her hand dismissively. "Honey, I don't think 'savior' would be the first thing anyone would call me." With a loud groan, she leaned over to pick up an order form. "Now if I could just get all of the details for the wedding."

"You know what?" Harriet suggested quickly, glancing down at her watch and then over at her husband. "Bud and I really have to get going. Why don't I just give you one of the extra invitations?"

Deanne hesitated. "Well, I might need to know more about—"

"Oh, I think it will have all the details you need," Harriet assured her. She reached into her purse and pulled out a glossy white envelope.

Laying it down on the counter with conviction, Harriet caught the other woman's eye with an intense gaze that almost made Deanne squirm. "You know, ma'am," she said sincerely. "This might not be your typical fairy tale wedding, but the one thing about fairy tales is that they always end with happily ever after. And sometimes happily ever after is a lot closer than we think it is."

With an almost imperceptible wink, Harriet turned to take Bud's arm, and they both hurried out of the shop.

"Wait!" Deanne called, finding her voice just a little too late. "Don't you want to make sure—"

She was cut off by the loud jingling of the bell over the door.

"—that I know how many flowers you need," Deanne finished out loud, although her voice merely echoed around the empty shop.

With a sigh of frustration, she snatched the invitation from the counter, surprised to see her own name staring back at her in big, bold letters.

 _Deanne_.

 _That's weird_ , she thought. Hadn't Harriet said it was just an extra?

With slightly shaky fingers, Deanne opened the envelope and pulled out a pretty white card. She admired the embossed emblems on the front — an eagle, globe, and anchor entwined with another anchor, shield, and a pair of gold wings.

Curious about such an intricate design, Deanne unfolded the invitation and sucked in her breath. Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise, and for a long time, she simply stared at the card in silence.

 _Mama_?

Deanne let out a startled gasp as she could have sworn she heard the voice of a little girl standing behind her in the shop. But when she spun around, there was no one there.

 _Do fairy tales ever come true?_

A slow smile spread across Deanne's face and hot tears welled up in her eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart," she whispered. "Yes, they do."

Exhaling slowly, she traced her plump fingers over the soft, flowing cursive inside the invitation. The words could not have meant more than if they had actually read happily ever after.

 _May we extend to you an invitation to celebrate the union of Captain Harmon Rabb, Jr. and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie._


End file.
